


Proving Your Worth

by Aleteia



Series: Post-HTTYD3 One-shots [4]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Father to Son talk, Gen, post httyd3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 20:46:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18373778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleteia/pseuds/Aleteia
Summary: Snotlout and his father have a conversation about what the dragons leaving means for them. Set after HTTYD3.





	Proving Your Worth

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little thing I wrote on Tumblr! User pips69 requested me to write something sweet between Spitelout & Snotlout, and this is what I came up with ^^

No one had told him building a new hut would be this time-consuming. Or difficult. Or downright annoying. Sure, Berk had been overrun with dragons and in danger; they’d had to move. Snotlout knew that. But surely, Hiccup could’ve come up with something better than just building everything up again from scratch?

For once however, he’d decided not to give his Chief too much of a bad time over it, and had simply started working instead. After all, Hiccup had enough on his mind already. So this was his chance to prove that even in a new environment, he could hold his own. Without needing anyone to help him find his way.

Smiling contently at his work, he put down his axe and started to lift the log he’d just carved out of one of New Berk’s trees. He was strong enough to get it off the ground quite easily, using his knees to spare his back and aptly moving the wood to balance on his shoulder.

Walking however proved to be a lot more challenging. He felt the beam sway dangerously as he stepped forward, making him halt to readjust the weight on his shoulder. Quickly, he realized his mistake; the hind part was a lot heavier than the front, and the lack of balance between the two sides was starting to make him topple over backwards.

“Hookfang!” he yelled out of instinct, waiting for his precious Monstrous Nightmare to come to his rescue. But the realization hit him as hard as the log hit the forest’s ground as it slipped from his weakening muscles. Hookfang wasn’t here anymore.

He ignored the tears that welled up in the corners of his eyes as he grabbed his axe out of the dirt. He flung it into the nearest tree, letting out a cry of frustration. How long had it been since the dragons had left? Weeks, at least. And he still wasn’t over it.

“Stupid Hiccup,” he muttered as he went to retrieve his axe. “Stupid dragons, stupid Hookfang, stupid new village…”

He shouldn’t care this much. He shouldn’t be this heartbroken. Hookfang had just been a dragon, after all. A Monstrous Nightmare, with an annoyingly sticky skin and a horrible attitude. Who had been by his side for six years. Been his companion, his partner, his friend. Always there for him, through thick and thin. Until now.

Feeling utterly defeated, he slumped down onto the log, pulling up his knees and letting the anguish wash over him. There was no one around after all. No one to see how his tears were dripping onto his hands as he buried his head in them. No one to see he didn’t have his shit together. That he wasn’t as strong and unphased as he pretended to be.

“Boy-o?”

He looked up in shock as his father’s voice pierced through the silence of New Berk’s forest. Spitelout emerged from the trees, looking at his son in concern.

“Hey dad,” he stammered, quickly wiping his cheeks to hide the evidence of his breakdown. “I was just about to –” he started as he scrambled to his feet.

“No, stay there,” his father told him, walking up to him and putting his broad figure down next to him. There was a silence after that, before his father finally spoke up again. “How are ya?”

The question sounded awkward and uneasy. It wasn’t something Snotlout was used to being asked. “I’m fine,” he shrugged.

They stayed quiet again after that, and he could hear his father rub his big hands together. “I miss him too, you know. Kingstail. He was always very good to me.”

He looked up at his dad in surprise, finding his eyebrows creased as he continued to speak. “And I can’t even imagine how close you were to that Nightmare of yours. Ya spent so much time with each other, after all.”

“I miss him,” he confessed, returning his father’s honesty. “I know why he had to leave but it’s just… What do I do without him?”

“Seems like there’s enough to do around here. The Chief’s basically working himself to death to keep himself occupied.”

“I know that,” he agreed. “But after that?”

He watched his father frown. “What do ya mean?”

“I was good at the whole dragon-riding thing. Sure, Hiccup was a show-off and Astrid practiced so often no sane human being could possibly keep up with her. But me and Hookie, we were great and Hiccup knew that. Who am I know? Am I still worth something to him?”

“The Chief probably still respects ya,” his father told him without hesitation before looking at him sharply. “And even if he doesn’t, he’ll come to do it again.”

He was about to argue against it, but his father held up his hand. “You’re a Jorgenson. We don’t back down that easily. We are worth something and we’ll fight to show others that, no matter how long it takes. And I know you’ll show them too.”

“I can say from experience that the Haddocks are stubborn folk, and although Hiccup’s not quite his father, he certainly has that in him.” His father smiled to himself, not quite meeting his gaze. “But I also know that they value their people before anything else. Prove your worth to one of them, and they’ll remember. And the fact that the Chief currently isn’t here to worry over you like he does with the rest of the village, that tells me he already knows that he can rely on you. And that he will continue to do that.”

Snotlout smiled to himself. As much as time needed to tell if they were true, he appreciated his father’s words. They didn’t often have heart-to-hearts like this. “Thanks, dad.”

“You’re welcome, boy-o,” his father firmly answered before he got to his feet. “Now how about we get this piece of wood to the village and get on fixing that hut of yours?”


End file.
